


Melancholia Regression

by nothingbutsmut



Series: Between 3 and 4, the World TURNS Upside Down [1]
Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Bad Puns, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hell, Ian kahn owns my ass, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Past Relationship(s), Period-Typical Homophobia, Smut, honestly? i just really needed to get this out there, ive gone of the dep end, shoot me now, the whol thing takes place in one night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-26 19:47:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7587478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingbutsmut/pseuds/nothingbutsmut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once, facing a moral dilemma, General George Washington had a troubling bout of melancholia, resolved in one night with the help of his slave and aid. Now with the death of Andre and the question of the Culper Ring continuing, he is hallucinating again, but with Billy missing and the demand for secrecy, George can only trust one man.<br/>Benjamin doesn't know why the General came to fetch him from his tent in the dead of night, but he will do whatever his General demands of him.</p><p>a/n: these two, okay? also I'm anxious about Season 4 renewal or not and I needed to channel my anxieties.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not Again

Washington looked up when the flap slithered and froze. 

“You’re dead,” he whispered. 

“I am quite aware,” John Andre said, a rope dangling from around his neck. Washington blinked. Shook his head. Swallowed weakly. 

“You’re dead,” he repeated and Andre sighed with a sad and almost pitying look. 

“Which implies that I am...” he waited for Washington to catch up. 

“An illusion.”

“Hallucination,” Andre corrected. “Your melancholia, your excellency. I suggest you find Billy. And but quick,” he said before he was gone in a blink. 

“Billy-Billy,” Washington murmured and looked about. He wasn't in this tent. Grabbing his cloak and hat he set out through the night. It was summer, the heat oppressive and driving most men into the open air rather than the trap of their tents. He passed soldiers and commanders and women alike, going about business. Most saluted or bowed, the girls curtsied and murmured greetings, but he only nodded and gave them tight smiles. Billy wasn’t in his tent. No. Of course. 

Billy would be back in Virginia with Martha. She needed him and had sent for him the day before and he was gone. Gone when George needed him most. He wandered aimlessly, hearing people whisper as he walked. 

“Idiot.”

“Clearly he has no clue what’s to come.”

“What’s going to happen to us?”

“Can’t be trusted.”

“Sinner.”

“Out of control old man.”

“I am not,” Washington muttered to himself, feeling cold despite the summer heat. His feet had taken him to the officer’s tents. Surely someone he knew would help him. A friend....One month ago he would have asked Benedict Arnold for advice, if he were there. He didn’t trust anyone as closely as he had Benedict. His dear friend Ben...Ben. George’s heart hammered in his chest. HIM he trusted. Above all others at this point. He would trust the boy with his life. Why not his sanity a well? Yes. 

“Benjamin Tallmadge.”


	2. Christian Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desperation driven by familiarity leads to two idiots in a heat in the middle of summer.

The man himself was reviewing a letter he was writing for Abe. It had to be carefully worded. He didn’t know if Abe was still alive, if he was in contact with Culper Jr., no one had heard word from Abigail since Andre’s hanging, hell he didn’t even know if the Culper Ring would continue on. He sighed, wiping the summer heat from his brow and rubbed his cheek. This could all go sideways if he revealed the wrong thing. The flaps to the tent were tied back, so if any breeze chanced by he might have its benefit but the heat carried on as the night stretched and he was about ready to give up and attempt sleep when he heard the crunch of footsteps and looked up. 

“Major.” He blinked in confusion. George Washington was standing at the entrance to his tent as though he belonged there and Benjamin was the one intruding. Realizing he was in only his trousers and shirt Benjamin lurched up and saluted, grabbing for his waistcoat and jacket.

“My-my apologies your excellency, I didn’t think you would be requiring a report-and the heat-”

“Don’t worry, Major,” Washington waved a hand dismissively. “Get dressed, I have need of you tonight.” He swept off, leaving Benjamin confused and his skin tingling in an odd way. He dressed quickly groaning in displeasure at the many layers before trudging after Washington to the tent which served Washington’s private quarters. The man was a billowing cloud of black and fushia in the night and easy to follow. He followed the general into his tent and stood at attention as Washington discarded his cloak and hat. 

“I’m afraid we have no news from Long Island or New York, sir. The Ring is still in question and-”

“That is not what I need. I don’t need intelligence, major. I require wisdom,” Washington said in a very soft voice that seemed almost fragile. Benjamin frowned. 

“Sir?”

“Are you familiar with the illness known as Melancholia?” said Washington softly and Benjamin’s frown deepened. 

“I have heard it once or twice mostly as a joke, sir. Men so overcome with emotion that they lose their minds.” He stared at the General whose jaw was clenched, hands pressed into the wood of the table so firmly it looked painful. “Your Excellency?”

“I am...plagued by this illness. Once before and again tonight. A moral dilemma seems to be the cause and I am need of a sound mind and loyal heart who has no qualms with speaking his mind.” Washington looked at Benjamin with such gravity he felt he may sink through the floor. “You are the only man I can think of,” he said grimly and Benjamin swallowed. “I ask you now, Major-no.” He waved his hand and straightened, dragging off the silken sash that marked his rank along with his jacket. “Benjamin. I am asking you not as your general, your commander or even as Washington. I am asking you as George. Benjamin, please help me.”

Benjamin’s heart hammered in his ears. Him? Helping his excellency with such a grave matter? Surely a Doctor, a man who knew the general longer-why him? But, now that he considered, he knew the general as other men did not and often spoke to him as other men dare not. His relationship with Washington was not the same as other Majors relationship’s with the general. He sighed and shrugged off his coat, dropping it on the back of a chair. He unbuckled his sabre belt and set that on the table. 

“Well, I’ll certainly try my best, George. Now, what’s bothering you?”


	3. The Root

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every river has it's source, including the rivers of madness.

 

“The last time, what was it?” Benjamin asked, now seated across from George. They were both in waistcoats and shirts, having removed their boots and stockings in the heat. Their was food on the table, some close to gone grapes and some sweating cheese with dark bread that was on the verge of being stale. Wine, however, had saved the meal and the two now sat casually, despite the constant tap of George’s fingers on the table. The older man was still on edge.

“That man-Hewlett? The one from Setauket. He had been captured as had our Mr. Culpepper-”

“Culper, it’s Culper.”

“Him. Killing Hewlett for his accused atrocities would end our Culper's life and I had long fought with myself over it. At the last instant I made a decision.”

“And how did you come to it?” Benjamin asked popping a grape in his mouth and enjoying the sweet juice that burst from it. 

“I had a vision-a hallucination of sorts,” he said softly, eyes on the wood grain. “Billy and I were up most of the night, attempting to sort through my dilemma.” He sighed and looked at the wall of the tent in concentration. 

“So what dilemma plagues you now?” Benjamin asked examining George’s face for an answer. 

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “That’s the root of it, I don’t know what’s wrong. Of course nothing is really right. You said it yourself, Commanders are mistrustful, confused. Soldiers don’t know if they can trust officers and officers don’t know if they can trust me...But such is the way of the war. That is not what plagues me.” Benjamin hummed in thought and rolled a grape over his plate in thought. “What troubles me eludes me. I had hoped in your great wealth of intelligence you might know.” Benjamin looked up and there was a teasing glint to George’s eyes that drew a smile out of the major. 

“Well...Andre,” he said bluntly and the light was gone, replaced by a ghost of regret. “Sir, you made your choice, so what haunts you now would be the fact that you made a decision and your heart and soul do not agree with your actions,” he pressed and a muscle in George’s jaw ticked as his eye grew hard. “George,” Benjamin said lightly and the elder man blinked in shock. “You made a choice, it’s in the past, but if your logic and forced hand don’t hold true to your conscience then this matter would haunt you.”

George deflated a bit and nodded rubbing his face. 

“You’re right, of course you are,” he said hoarsely and Benjamin relaxed. “It was....I saw him. It’s why I went to get you-I saw Andre.”

“Here?” Benjamin said in confusion.

“A hallucination. His ghost haunting me in my mind for his death,” George said, face still hidden in his hand and voice racked with emotions. Benjamin hesitated and reached across the table and touched his shoulder gently. 

“Then let us be rid of him. Now and forever.” he said solemnly and George looked up at him with exhausted eyes. “If you could have, if everything had gone your way, how would you have dealt with it all?” Benjamin said retracting his hand. George snorted and slumped back in his chair. 

“I would have traded him for Benedit. Given him back to his own men and hung the real traitor,” he said bitterly. “But I couldn’t. There was nothing to be done It wasn’t...it wasn’t up to me, I had little say in the matter,” he said and Benjamin frowned. 

“You...what?”

“Congress decided that they needed punishment and considering Benedict’s letter the British weren’t about to give him up. They decided his fate, and I was chosen to carry it out. I had little say in the matter. I couldn’t even give the man his damn firing squad,” he muttered, eyes hazy in recolection. Benjamin hesitated. 

“Sir?” George glanced at him with a pained look and Benjamin remembered the point of his presence. “George, if you had, as you say, no input into his fate then it is unlikely that your current illness is caused by his death. Perhaps it is something else about the late major that bothers you,” he offered and Washington nodded slowly, a frown creasing his face. 

“You may be right at that...but I can’t imagine what,” he said softly. He suddenly laughed, bitter and lined with self loathing. “If he could see me now I’m sure he’d be much amused. Him and Benedict both.” He kept laughing. Benjamin grimaced. 

“Why do you call him that?” he asked softly. George glanced at him. “Why do you call him Benedict.” The half smile faded and was replaced by a lost look. “George I know he was a friend but I don’t think it entirely appropriate-”

“Appropriate,” snorted George in derision and Benjamin sat back in his chair, a bit hurt by his tone. “No part of our friendship was ever quite appropriate. I challenged congress to clear his name, gave him command of a city, of West Point, I bent heaven and earth to keep him safe and he trusted me...He was always there when I needed him, how I needed him...” he trailed off, eyes hazy again and Benjamin felt he had missed something in his speech, something quite obvious that had launched over his head.

“He was a good man, yes, but he is still a traitor,” Benjamin pressed and George sighed. “Treason of such magnitude is broaching on sin. Caleb once heard from a man he met-a pirate of sorts that there is a special ring of hell for traitors and mutineers-”

“Do not speak to me of hell and sin,” spat George lurching to his feet and Benjamin jumped back, almost toppling from his seat. “Not all things are as they seem and time will show you that if common sense will not,” barked the older man and Benjamin stared at him in pure fear. He was not himself, his usually controlled temper burning hot in his eyes, all of it aimed at Benjamin and he trembled, mouth parted in shock and eyes wide. 

“Sir?” he said in a voice he would later convince himself was strong. George shrank back into his seat, the fire dimming in his eyes and he placed his face in his hands. 

“I’m so sorry, my dear boy...I’m so sorry,” he mumbled faintly and he trembled a bit. Benjamin thought he might cry. Swallowing his apprehension he stood up and moved around the table, touching his shoulder gently again. When George didn’t pull away Benjamin set his hand more firmly on him, gently squeezing the muscles bunched in stress and distress.

“It’s alright-I was speaking out of turn, sir,” he said softly and George shook his head, dropping his hand. His eyes looked damp, but his face was dry. 

“No, I asked for this. I asked for you to speak freely-I am at fault here not you. Thank you, Benjamin,” he said and Benjamin shivered. He chanced a small smile and George’s eyes flicked up to him and away again, a small puff of air that may have been a laugh and a fleeting smile passing his face. 

“If I may, maybe it is not Andre, but rather Arnold from which your dilemma grows,” he said and George nodded slowly. “If you still see Arnold as a friend then maybe you merely need to sort through your attachment to him to find your problem. From there we can fix it.” George looked at him and nodded. 

“Quite right,” he mumbled staring at Benjamin with the same singular focus as he often did when Benjamin said something particularly profound and Benjamin flushed faintly and leaned back, not having realized he had bent closer to speak. 

“How did you meet him?”

“Benedict?” Laughed George and he shook his head. “Oh that is a tale...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DID YOU CATCH MY PIRATES OF THE CARRIBEAN REFRENCE??????????????????????


	4. Looking Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Washington recalls and some matter of truth is exposed.

“It was August of 1775 and the heat was unbearable.I had just been granted control of the Continental Army. And i was looking for good commanders, officers and soldiers I could trust, who knew what they were doing. Earlier, in the spring a group had seized Fort Ticonderoga and held it for some time, led by a most adventurous and fierce man. One Benedict Arnold who had joined the Sons of Liberty. We needed someone like him to lead a charge into Canada. I asked him myself.”

 

_ Washington swept across the fort, people stumbling out of his way, some recognizing him, some merely avoiding the stoic figure barreling towards them with grim purpose. The weight of such command and respect was still foreignly heavy on Washington’s shoulders. Command, yes. But of an entire army leading a revolution against the greatest Empire since Rome? He must have gone mad.  _

_ He was here for a reason, he was looking for  man...who was he? Benedict Arnold. He’d led the charge, Washington needed him to lead men into Canada, needed his help. He had been told he was in the center of the frt and that’s where he went. Pushing into the tent he waited as a handful of squabbling men fell silent, all gaping at him. There were five gathered together, four standing one in a chair, all pouring over a map. The one in the chair stood up.  _

 

“He was quite eager to be of service. He wanted revenge, which I suppose should have been warning enough. He had been a businessman, but the stamp and sugar acts had almost ruined him. He joined our cause out of anger and need to regain his losses. But all I saw was the man, not his reasons. And the man I saw was a soldier.”

 

_ The man was handsome to say the least. Tall, almost as tall as Washington, with a firm jaw and clever eyes, a wide mouth that seemed more suited to smiling than war cries. His hair was brown and a bit disheveled, but it somehow made him look more a soldier, and not so much a messy person as the look had on others.  _

_ “Your excellency, I heard you were coming, welcome to Fort Ticonderoga,” he said in a voice filled with both respect and command. Washington nodded solemnly. “I would have come to greet you if I knew you had arrived, I apologize,” he said, running a hand over his hair, attempting to flatten the stray strands. Washington waved his hand a faint smile tugging at his lips.  _

_ “No matter. I would, however, speak with you Captain Arnold,” he said and he visibly noticed every man in the room stiffen in surprise or shock at his voice. All except Benedict, an eager smile flickering over his face and his fingers twitching slightly. The other soldiers left and they were alone.  _

_ “How may I service you, your excellency?” Benedict asked as if he had just won the wa personally.  _

 

“He was quite skilled, an excellent soldier, clever tactician. He was eager to lead the column and more than happy when I requested his assistance through the rest of the war.”

 

_ “Of course sir!” he said, voice delighted when Washington broached the subject of the Canadian invasion. “I’ll begin preparations at once,” he vowed and Washington smiled. Benedict was younger than him, a few years maybe. But he could see, tucked behind his eyes the edge of something very familiar. Familiar and hungry. _

_ “Well I’m glad of it. I’ll need men like you before this is done,” Washington said smoothly, giving him a small smile.  _

_ “Like me, sir?” _

_ “Brave men. Soldiers. Warriors with courage and cleverness enough for a whole legion,” Washington said. He was flattering him, of course he was. It was how you did this sort of thing. Benedict preened under the praise and smiled at Washington. It looked somewhere between a smirk and an invitation. “Enough of business. Tell me then, Benedict.” He liked the way he shivered when he used his first name. “Do you have a wife in the city?” _

 

“We became fast friends. He was just what I needed when I most needed it: Brave men on the front leading the charge to victory and freedom. But more than that, I saw in him something like myself, someone who I was in my youth. That should have been warning enough but i was blindsided by desperation and by...”

 

_ Benedict was every bit as eager to kiss Washington as he was to lead the troops into Canada. It had take only a few veiled comments for him to catch on and now he was seated on the table, gripped Washington’s jacket tightly and hungrily kissing him. Washington could hardly protest, his hand running down Benedict’s sides and hips gently. This is something he hadn’t indulged in in a long time. The old agreement between him and Martha was simple: What she could not provide he could find for himself as long as it didn’t follow him home or get him in trouble. _

_ So he was careful, with Benedict. Late nights up planning the invasion devolved into hastily traded kisses between gasps of pleasure and gentle moans as their hands memorized each other. Benedict always eager for more and Washington indulging in his eagerness. Eager for more, for new. Kisses and touches turned to hands on cocks roughly dragging out orgasms, muffled by hands and rough lips. These in turn changed to Benedict on his knees, mouth stretched around Washington’s cock, cheeks hollowed and hungry as Washington bit at his knuckles and came messily down his throat.  _

_ Always more, always more and when Benedict was away he wrote letters about the attacks. Reports to unseeing eyes but always there was a faint trace of something a misplaced word, misspelled or oddly phrased that made Washington grin all to himself. Benedict’s injury had Washington on edge and he went to see him, asking after his health before sending away the doctor and pessing kisse sto Benedict’s face-but he wanted more. He didn’t want soft comfort anymore. He wanted everything and George couldn’t give it to him. Not just then.  _

_ After his victory in Saratoga he had sought out Benedict thinking that a celebration might be in order but happened upon him already amidst celebration with a young lady. He apologized, excused himself and accepted Benedict’s whimpered apologies later.  _

_ “She’s nothing, nothing next to you,” Benedict pressed, straddling Washington's lap and cupping his jaw. Washington raised an eyebrow.  _

_ “Benedict, there are some things I simply cannot provide for you, I didn’t for a second imagine I was the only person you were seeing.” Benedict had chuckled and kissed him, but it had still stung. Benedict had felt the need to justify such a meeting...But soon Benedict’s mouth was on his throat and Washington quite forgot women altogether. Sending Benedict away had always been hard for Washington, who wanted to keep him close, keep him safe, but he was needed fighting, so that’s where Washington sent him.  _

_ Then Benedict was injured yet again, filled with rage and disobedience. Washington tried to sooth his wounds with the promotion, delivering it himself and holding his hand, pressing kisses to his knuckles, but benedict had grown weary of such fond actions and asked him to leave. Then, some two months later, the French arrived. Or rather more accurately, Gilbert arrived.  _

_ The boy was bright and rosy cheeked, almost perpetually smiling and seemed quite taken with Washington who found himself startled by such adoration, Respect he was, by now familiar with and the fierce hot of Benedict’s passion yes, but the boy seemed genuinely enamored with Washington greeting him a la parisian, kissing his cheeks swiftly and smiling fondly at him, bringing a rather unbecoming blush to Washington’s cheeks which only widened the grin on Gilbert’s face and deepened his dimples. In his joy at the French aid he had pressed similarly kisses to the boy’s cheeks at the dinner that was thrown upon the arrival. Benedict hadn’t liked that at all.  _

_ “Am I not enough? Do you seek comfort elsewhere that I cannot provide?” he had raged afterwards when he and Washington were alone. Washington was startled by how upset Benedict was, mistaking jealous rage for rejected anguish.  _

_ “My dear Benedict, the boy is French, I only treat him as he treats me,” he said, shoving down any possible affection he might have thought to grow for the boy. Benedict seemed skeptical but a handful of hours later both lay breathless on the bed, and Benedict seemed appeased. Washington kept Gilbert at arms length, which he accepted with grace and turned his attention instead on Colonel Hamilton who seemed more than happy to flirt right back with the young marquis in his first language.  _

_ Then he had to send Benedict away to Philadelphia. The reports came, but there were no more secret words for Washington and he frowned at the reports of unrest in the city. And then he received the invitation. Peggy. Shippen. Engaged to be wed-and not a word to Washington. “Not that he cared. Not that it changed anything. And he would get to see Martha, in Philadelphia so he let his hurt dissolve into happiness. His very best friend was engaged! And in philadelphia Peggy Shippen was warm and polite and agreed to a dance. Seeing Martha was like gaining his youth, taking her into his arms and pressing familiar kisses to familiar lips.  _

_ “You want to be liked,” she had said. It was true. And he had promised to help Benedict and he found himself pushed against a wall and being kissed, hungry and familiar and rough. But...it wasn’t the same. Something had changed. It wasn’t until was leaving that it had occurred to him he hadn’t particularly enjoyed Benedict pushing him around. He hadn’t liked it at all. He had accepted his cloak from Billy, put on his hat and stepped out into the cold.  _

_ “Sir, the coach is ready.” He had looked up and there, framed in a halo of lamplight and snow was- _

 

“Sir? George?” Benjamin touched his wrist gently and george blinked at him. “You stopped talking,” he prodded and George blinked. 

“I didn’t just need soldiers, benjamin,” George sighed. “I needed a friend, very badly, someone I could trust. I trusted him. And this is what has become of that trust.” Benjamin looked deeply upset and sighed, rubbing his face as his mind raced with thoughts. 

“I think then, George, there is some unfinished business you have with Arold, or rather his memory,” Benjamin said and George nodded slowly. “Something that was very important that is still open, like a wound that needs to be sealed. Does anything come to mind?” George nodded again. Yes. The matter of Benjamin Tallmadge.

 

_ West Point. Where everything fell apart, yes West Point was where it began. He had walked in with Hamilton, Gilbert, and benjamin all prmly dressed and eager to impress. Gilbert had listened to Washington talk about Benedict for hours on end.  _

_ “I’m sure we will get along wonderfully, if we both love as much as we do,” he had laughed, light and airy. Hamilton and fought his own bout of giggles, having long known Gilbert's affection for Washington. Benjamin somehow missed the joke, poor lad, and, always eager to be included, had piped up. _

_ “The General is a great man. I’m sure he’ll be very fond of you your grace, he certainly was of me. He holds his excellency in the highest of regard and considers all those with the same view close friends,” he said and Gilbert giggled again.  _

_ “I can imagine.” The Marquis was eager to start relations with Benedict, but that had been dashed when Benedict had let loose a derisive comment about the French, earning shock and hurt and a touch of anger from Gilbert and some indignation on Hamilton’s part. Benjamin merely seemed confused at Benedict’s attitude, and somehow, mistrustful. And yet somehow- _

_ “You aide,” said Washington in a carefully controlled voice. “You sought to take tallmadge away from his post as head of intelligence and make him your secretary?” Benedict snorted.  _

_ “Please, the lad is hardly a spy. You cannot be both spy and soldier.” So he was the one who placed such thoughts in young Benjamin’s head. “And do not think I am a fool, George, I know how you are.” _

_ “What?” said Washington in a low voice.  _

_ “You have been this way from the start! You gather about you able young men with exceptional skill, ones who can do you service! A warrior like me. A writer like Hamilton. Funds like that French princeling. And a spy like Benjamin. And then you take more than service, you take pleasure as well,” Benedict jeered and Something deep inside of Washington broke. It was in that moment, he no longer trusted Benedict.  _

_ “You misunderstand the very foundation of our relationship then, Benedict,” said Washington gravely.  _

_ “Is that so? Why then, so many years ago, did you court me as you did?” Benedict laughed and Washington sighed.  _

_ “Because I truly felt I might love you, you poor fool,” he said softly. Benedict froze then, eyes wide. “I saw in you courage, honor, and eagerness, all things I find commendable. All things I find wonderful. And  sought to have you at my hand. But f after all this time you do not understand how dearly  love you, then I am afraid Benedict this cannot go on,” Benedict looked more confused than upset.  _

_ “Fine,” he shrugged and the broken thing shattered into dust. “I’m with peggy now, as it is. And you have that boy. Keep him, he’s yours,” benedict had knocked back his drink and retired. Washington had brooded before the fire and then slumped to bed.  _

  
At the time, he had assumed Benedict meant Gilbert, boyish curls and dimples and all. But now, looking back he began to suspect Benedict had meant something else. Because the bond he had with benedict, forged in valor and lust and misplaced love, was altogether weak compared to the bond forged from trust, understanding, and courage he had with Benjamin Tallmadge.


	5. Soft and Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer heat and soft words can lead to all sorts of trouble.

George had gotten lost in his thoughts and Benjamin too was thinking. What was he missing here? Somehow the general’s friendship with Arnold still bothered him. He needed closure on some matter of heavy importance in order to be at peace again. He entertained, briefly the mad idea that perhaps they had fought over a woman at some point-hadn’t George danced with Peggy Shippen at the ball? Now that he thought about it, the two had acted odd all evening. 

First with Arnold practically dragging George away to speak to him and then avoiding one another until the end of the night when the disappeared for almost an hour. And Arnold had been curt, if not downright rude to Benjamin when he tried to be polite, tried to be kind. That, he reasoned, was the beginning of the end. That was why he hadn’t quite trusted Arnold at West Point. That and the moment Benjamin had helped him stand. 

Arnold had practically clung to him, faces close, foreheads pressed together as Arnold had used Benjamin as a crutch to stand, arms locked around him in a tight embrace. Benjamin had found the moment oddly sad, incredibly inspiring and somehow obscenely intimate all at once. Considering he had been laid out buck naked in the dead of winter in front of his troops, he didn’t think he could FEEL anymore exposed than he had that Christmas, and yet with Arnold leaning on him, breathing so close and so warm he had felt almost submissive to his will. Which was terrifying considering what later occurred. 

He shook away the thoughts of that moment and shifted a bit on the table. HIs movements snapped George out of his own reverie and he sighed. 

“Thank you for you advice, Benjamin. It’s a comfort to know I can trust you,” George sighed, leaning his chin on his hand rather miserably. Benjamin paused. He wasn’t supposed to acknowledge rank tonight, however...

“You know I would do anything for you, george,” he said bluntly and George’s gaze snapped to him. Benjamin felt a blush color his cheeks, but he pushed on. “Even after the war, if you ever have need of me, I will be at your service. Assuming I survive this.” It was meant as a joke. One he often shared with Caleb. 

 

_ “I’m gonna marry two girls, have fifteen kids and hunt for a living. Assuming I survive this.” _

_ “I’m going to sleep in, assuming I survive this.” _

 

In the casual atmosphere of the tent e had let the phrase slip out. George, however did not take it as it was intended. 

“Do not say that.” he growled standing up. Benjamin would have back up before such a steely glare but was stuck against the table where he had been perched, George standing in fornt of him, close enough to feel his chest rise and fall with breathe. Benjamin’s thighs dug painfully into the edge of the wood as he pressed away from the older man, face pale. George was gripping his shoulders, staring into his eyes with grim purpose. “Do not speak so lightly of your own death-you cannot die in this-You mustn't.” The hard edge had turned to something like desperation. “I cannot lose you as well.” His voice had cracked and he lowered his head. 

His grip on Benjamin loosened and he slumped slightly. He stood trembling and Benjamin stayed frozen. Then, almost of their own accord, his arms wrapped around his frame and hugged him. George set his head in benjamin’s shoulder, still trembling and his arms too wound about benjamin, hesitant and weak. Benjamin took in a slow breath and closed his eyes. 

“It’s going to turn out fine, you know. All of this. We’re going to win and when it’s over you can go home to your wife, to your house, to your gardens, you can go back. And you’ll still have all of us.” He knew the older man was listening despite his silence. “Alexander plans on deepening his work in law but he won’t stop raving about you. Wants to put you in charge of the country.”

“Please,” George snorted and shook with a soft laugh. 

“He was, I swear,” Benjamin smiled. “And Gilbert is going on and on about how inspired he is by you-he threatened to name his son after you, you know.” This drew a deep warm laugh from George as he pulled back, running a hand over his eyes. “And you’ll always have me,” benjamin added and george looked at him. Benjamin flushed. “I’m-I’ve been thinking about it, what I will do after the war? Honestly I don’t know. But no matter what I’ll always be only a letter away. Anytime you need me, I will be at your side as soon as a horse allows it,” he vowed and a faint smile played over George’s lips.

“You truly don’t know what you will do after the war?” he said. 

“Do you?” Benjamin said, not expecting an answer. 

“I miss my wife,” George said softly. “I miss my home, my gardens, and my wife. I’ll go back to Virginia, to Mount Vernon. I’ll set about making it the finest place to live in the country. Though i doubt I’ll be able to afford it.” he laughed and Benjamin followed suit. Then George looked back at Benjamin. “Tell me then, Benjamin.” The boy shivered, unbidden. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know,” whispered Benjamin softly. 

“Don’t you have anyone back on Setauket? A wife? A girl you fancied?” George said softly. 

“No-no one. I didn’t even think about girls for a long time and when I did it was-” he stopped himself, face flushing. “Well the war was on and a had a duty, sir.” George raised an eyebrow. “George,” Benjamin corrected himself. 

“What was it like when you did think of these girls?” George pressed and Benjamin ducked his head. 

“I just wasn’t interested. I grew up with those girls, they weren't very interesting considering Caleb and I had been teasing them since we could run away from our fathers’ hands.” George chuckled softly and Benjamin smiled. He found great satisfaction in the fact that he could make George laugh and smile so easily. “I’ve only ever really fancied one girl and even that was...odd. For me. It didn’t feel right and she...felt nothing.” he stared at a spot on george’s chest, tracing the line of stitches on his shirt. 

“It felt wrong. Like you were wearing someone else’s clothes and doing something wrong. But you didn’t know what. You seemed detached, disinterested, more consumed with the concept of sex than the actual process.” George’s voice startled Benjamin and he stared at him, eyes locked, clear blue meeting deep grey. His voice was heavy with understanding and his eyes seemed to promise-something. 

“Yes,” Benjamin said, mouth dry. “Though-to be fair, I was wearing someone else’s clothes at the time.” he tried to draw out a laugh but only gained an amused look. 

“It felt wrong, to touch her,” George said softly and Benjamin swallowed. 

“Yes. Not-not just because we weren’t married-and I didn’t know her-it was-it felt-”

“Soft. Too soft,” George said knowingly. 

“Yes-how-how did you-”

“I know because I have felt the same dysphoric confusion myself,” he said in a soft voice. 

“You? But you and Martha seem so-”

“Martha doesn’t like to be touched,” he murmured and Benjamin went very quiet. “Her last husband was...very demanding and she gave but she doesn’t enjoy...it.” His words were soft. 

“So you-the two of you don’t-”

“I love her and I respect her wishes. She shows affection as she will, you saw us in Philadelphia.” Benjamin nodded. “As it is she understands that sometimes I need what she does not wish to provide.” He was still looking at Benjamin very closely. “And even if she was agreeable to my touch in that manner, there are some things that I...She is very...”

“Soft,” Benjamin said hoarsely. George nodded. “So-what-what do you prefer?” he said, not daring to think of his own answer. George’s hand was soft as it settled on Benjamin’s hip, the major still stuck between the general and the table. Benjamin closed his eyes, skin humming in-was that fear? Anticipation? Excitement? Soft lips brushed his cheek and he froze up, going stiff. 

“I would prefer you, if you would have me.”


	6. What Am I?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter contains period typical Homophobia, mostly internalized.

Benjamin jerked away and out of his arms taking four steps across the tent and stood with his back to the general, heaving with breathes that didn’t seem to give him enough air. No-no-no this was madness this was sin this was wrong. Obscene. It was so good. 

“Benjamin?”

“Sir, I think-It best if I return to my tent,” he said stiffly. Silence. He didn’t move to leave. A soft hand settled on his shoulder and Benjamin closed his eyes. “This is wrong. This has to be wrong. Isn’t it?” he asked, he needed an answer, he needed to know. With a soft hum the hand squeezed gently, massaging into his shoulders gently. Benjamin let out a soft whimper, eyes slipping shut as the older man rubbed his shoulders carefully, large hands digging deep but somehow still gentle. Benjamin’s knees trembled and he wavered. 

“Sit down, come here.” He allowed himself to be steered into a seat and sat still as George kept going, massaging into his shoulders and up his neck, undoing his braid to card through his hair and along his scalp. Benjamin’s skin was almost on fire, he was burning up and it felt so good. He let out a soft moan and the hands stopped. 

“Please no,” he breathed “Don’t stop.” George’s hands resumed kneading at his neck gently drawing out another moan from Benjamin. 

“Take off your waistcoat,” came a soft command and Benjamin hesitated. “Trust me.” Benjamin fumbled with his buttons, fingers fumbling as he tried to undo them. Then gentle hands grabbed his wrists, pulling them away. Benjamin watched, pulse racing as George undid his waistcoat, pulling it off slowly. Having the layer removed helped with the heat and he took in a steadying breath. The hands returned to his chest, resting lightly in his ribs. He let out a soft whimper, trembling. 

“It’s alright, Benjamin. It’s just me,” George whispered in his ear softly. 

“Please I-I don’t know how this goes,” he said weakly. “I only-only once and I told she was-it was wrong.” Then George’s hands were gone. He opened his eyes, not remembering closing them and George was kneeling in front of him, face soft and comforting. “How do we do this?”

“As slowly as you want,” George said gently and Benjamin gave a soft whimper. He dropped out of the chair, straddling George’s legs and wrapping his arms around his neck. Strong hands came to rest on his back, holding him steady. 

“I told you, I don’t know what I want,” Benjamin said against his cheek. He tried to press a kiss to his skin, instead somehow dragging his parted lips along his jaw. George gave a rumbling moan and Benjamin flushed. “Sorry,” he whispered. 

“Please, again,” George whispered and Benjamin flushed, heat rushing through his body. He groaned as he felt his cock start to harden, pressed as it was against George’s body. Benjamin complied and again damply mouthed over his commander’s jaw. George gave a soft moan and slid one hand up Benjamin’s back. The younger whimpered and pressed his face into George’s neck. “I’ve got you. Relax.” 

Benjamin tried, he did, he tried let all the tension leak from his skin and tried to go soft against George’s body. But he couldn’t. Every inch of him screamed that this was wrong. It couldn’t be. But God did it feel good. He gave a pitiful noise and pushed away, stumbling and pushed back along the floor, eyes shut. George didn’t stop him, letting him go and keeping his distance. Benjamin opened his eyes, staring at him. George looked tired again and somehow very sad. 

“I’m sorry-I’m sorry I can’t,” he said weakly and George nodded. “You-you had-your melancholia, the problem what was-”

“We were together,” George interrupted and Benjamin fell silent. George sat back on the floor looking at his knees and sighed. “Benedict and I were lovers.”

“How long?”

“Since the moment we met,” George mumbled and Benjamin felt something deep inside of him howl in anger. He pushed that down. Now he understood the full scope of Arnold’s betrayal. 

“Were there others? Are there others-like-like us?” he said softly. George looked up at him. “Soldiers under your command who you have-”

“No...yes,” he said, going from defiant to humiliated. “It wasn’t so very odd during the Seven Year War. Men would often take up together, just for amusement for a time. It was normal. I...I always grew attached. It wasn’t the same with me. I wanted more than just secrets in the night, not to be discussed in the day. I wanted more. More than that.” George rubbed his face, looking very tired indeed.

“You wanted a companion. You wanted a partner, a lover,” Benjamin mumbled and George laughed. 

“It sounds so childish,” he murmured. “I thought I had found that in Benedict. He seemed to be everything I wanted-I needed. We suited one another....I thought.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I was wrong. He was exactly as those other soldiers were. Bored and eager for a game. That’s all I was to him. A game.”

“No, sir. You weren’t,” Benjamin said moving back towards him and cupping his jaw gently. “He defended you, always. When people attacked you or mocked you he always defended you. He was a friend to you, sir. It was his own ambition and greed that ruined it. He was a friend, sir, just not the one you...needed...” he trailed off, looking back on several moments with the former General. Hands and closeness and a look he thought was admiration, Caleb’s teasing about how he called him ‘Benjamin’ on sight...He flushed at his own blindness and turned up George’s face. “I think he did love you, somewhat.”

“Not enough. Or maybe it was me...”

“No, no you are ever kind, sir. You are always so good and fair and inexplicably kind to everyone and I can’t imagine how he got it into his head that he needed to betray you-he-he was a fool and you...you are...” He stared at George who watched, waited for an answer. 

“Well? What am I, Benjamin?” he asked softly. 

“Perfect,” Benjamin said unbidden and pressed a hot kiss to George’s lips. 

“And what are you then, if I am perfect?” George said weakly, hand coming up and tugging off Benjamin’s cravat. It came away with a swish and Benjamin gasped as cool air hit his neck.

“Yours,” he offered up and George stared at him. “I’m-George ever since I first met you, you have so captured me. You-I want so badly to please you, to make you proud of me, to make you happy, please. In this, as in all things, I am at your service. George, please,” he kissed him again, blushing furiously. George's hands slowly slid up his sides as he kissed back, gentle and hesitant.

“Come then, Benjamin. Let’s see if we can find our rhythm in this dance.”


	7. Hands and Lips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains explicit content and imbiding of Alcohol.

It was slow, at first, both trying to work around the barrier that was rank and something neither of them wanted to think about. Benjamin would sometimes unbidden lean away when George moved to kiss him then mutter an apology and kiss over his jaw in apology as George soothed him with understanding words. George, in turn, would sometimes simply stop moving, trepidation on his face and ask if Benjamin was sure. If he wanted this. The answer was always a soft yes followed by a kiss, making Benjamin blush. 

Eventually they did find a rhythm. George gently guiding Benjamin’s movements as the former kissed the latter languidly, soft and deep and so hot Benjamin though he might burst into flame. George’s hands would guide Ben’s hips back and forth, teaching him how to move in a way that made both of them gasp and whine in delight as friction erupted from their grinding cocks. Inevitably ben got jumpy and backpedalled off George’s lap,shaking his head and shivering. 

“I’m sorry-I’m sorry It’s just so much,” he said, panting heavily. 

“I know, it’s alright,” George soothed softly, touching his knee gently. He moved closer and gently cupped Benjamin’s cheek. Benjamin glanced at him, blushing madly. “I know something that may help.”

“You do?” Benjamin said weakly.

“It certainly helped me the first time I did this,” George confided and offered Benjamin a hand. Benjamin took it shakily and stood with George who refilled their glasses with wine and offered it to Benjamin. “Liquid courage, as they say,” George said. Benjamin hesitated. 

“I don’t know-won’t it be a bit-um-”

“I will ask nothing of you,” George said gently, cupped his cheek tenderly. “This I hope will calm your nerves but not numb your mind. Voice any trepidation or fear-I will heed you as I always do.” Benjamin blushed and drank.

They wound up drinking half the wine and awkwardly pawing at one another, Benjamin giggling uncontrollably as the alcohol went to his head, George gently hushing him and mumbling soft words. Praise that made Benjamin’s skin hum. He had long since overcome his shyness at kissing George. He was too drunk to be shy about that, especial considering he had managed to straddle the man’s legs again, rocking on him slowly and panting against his lips as the crotches of their trousers rubbed together. 

“God, Ben-please,” George moaned as his hips jerked up, drawing out a moan from Benjamin at the rough pressure. Benjamin whimpered and rocked against him. He was painfully hard and pleasantly drunk, too drunk to stop but sober enough to hesitate and look at George in trepidation. “Slow, slow as you want,” George said, voice thick as he kissed along the column of Benjamin’s neck. 

“Hand-hands-can-please?” he begged and George kissed him sloppily, tugging at the front of Benjamin’s trousers, cursing and fumbling, Benjamin mimicked his actions, making soft whimpers when George’s hands grew rough, placing pressure on his straining cock. 

“It’s alright, Ben I have you, I have you, almost-” Benjamin didn’t know when in the night George had started calling him ‘Ben’ but he liked it. Liked the way it sounded. He suddenly gasped and George pushed down his pants slightly taking Benjamin’s cock in his hand and humming in pleasure as he pumped Ben’s cock. 

“God! Fuck! George!” he cried out and George’s other hand was pressed over his mouth. 

“Quiet, must be quiet. You’re so wonderful, my sweet boy. So warm and hard, such a good boy,” he whispered in Benjamin’s ear. Ben’s hands scrabbled at George’s trousers and pulled out his cock, making George hiss in pleasure. “Nah-Ben-”

“Big,” Benjamin mumbled, hand wrapped weakly around George’s cock, precum slipping from the tip. “You’re so big-how-fuck.” He whimpered a bit, trying to match George’s hand. He whined and pressed his face into George’s neck, hands fumbling on the older man’s cock as George stroked him off with sure smooth strokes, sweat and precum mingling on his cock as his hips bucked into George’s fist, tight and rough, making him whimper as George stifled his noise, moaning himself at Benjamin’s fumbling touch. 

“Slow-slow gotta slow down or-or I’m gonna-” Benjamin whispered, trying desperately to make George moan like he was moaning, trying to make him feel as good as Benjamin did. 

“Come along now, finish for me, darling, show me how pretty you look in ecstasy,” George whispered and turned Benjamin’s face to look at him, hand speeding up and tightening and Ben came with a gasp, silent and arching his back, cum splattering his shirt as his hand tightened on George who groaned. Benjamin went limp, tilting back and George carefully laid him down on his back. Benjamin blinked up at him too exhausted to move but George’s hands left him and wrapped around his own cock. 

“Beautiful, so beautiful Benjamin, my dear, God, so-nah!” His cock sprayed come over Benjamin’s chest, long ropes of white and Ben whimpered, arching slightly as the slick spread on him. George slumped over, holding his weight on trembling arms as he hovered over Benjamin, looking at him adoringly. He dropped a soft kiss on Ben’s lips and Benjamin whined, reaching up and touching his chin gently. “What-what do you need?” George said softly.

“You. I want to be yours-I can be yours I want-what you want I can-I know I can be that for you,” he said hoarsely, staring up at him. George flushed and kissed him again. 

“Yes. Yes, of course. Come now. Let’s get you out of this.” Benjamin allowed George to sit him up and pull off his shirt. Soft lips trailed down his chest as Benjamin moaned faintly hands sliding into George’s hair to keep him close. He yelped, some semblance of awareness returning as George scooped him up and carried him to the bed, setting him down in his trousers alone. Benjamin licked his lips and tugged on George’s shirt. 

“Join me?” he said softly. George smiled faintly, pulling off his waistcoat and then his shirt, and Benjamin moaned at the sight. “Sir, please,” he whispered. George settled next to him as Ben pressed close, rocking their hips together feebly. 

“My dear,” chuckled George and placed a hand on Ben’s hip to still him. “I have long since left the days when I could so quickly come up again for my lovers. If there’s something you want then tell me, I will give it to you,” he promised and Ben’s mind struggled to fight through the haze. He wanted a lot right now but the alcohol was by now clouding his judgment, so he settled on the only thing he could. 

“No-close-keep me close?” Benjamin mumbled faintly and big warm arms wrapped around him. 

“Yes. Now and always,” George murmured in his ear and Benjamin pressed close, legs tangling together as George pressed soft kisses to his face. Benjamin couldn’t fall asleep. 

“Hell-your-we need to find out what you melancholia-”

“It’s gone. It’s done with,” George said softly and Benjamin stared at him. “It was you. I-for a long time now you have been more to me than just my head of intelligence, Benjamin. The moment you kissed me I felt my mind clear. Oh Benjamin, sweet b=Benjamin.” He kissed the younger softly and Benjamin frowned. 

“I am sorry that I have upset you. That I caused you such trouble,” he mumbled. 

“Hush, no. It was all for the best,” George soothed and kissed his cheek. “Sleep, my Ben. Go to sleep.” Ben mumbled something else but obeyed, falling asleep in George’s arms.


	8. By the Dawn's Early Light

Benjamin awoke to voices. He didn’t move.

“Yes, take your men up the west side for patrol. The best thing for this mess is to handle it head on.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Go on then.” There was footsteps and the slither of the tent flaps. Ben peeked open one eye slightly. He was still in the bed, the curtains drawn around it and a thin blanket wrapped around which was quickly growing unnecessary. He felt damp and sleepy but he worked his mind awake and slowly sat up. There was silence inside the tent even as the sounds of the camp sounded outside. It was a tad later than he normally awoke and the sun was up, filling the tent with sunlight. He carefully peeked out of the curtains and saw George sitting at the table.

He was pouring over a map, already dressed impeccably with his hair braided and curled, no powder since they were in the middle of a campaign. He didn’t look like he had spent the night drunkenly wooing Benjamin and a part of him wondered if it had been a dream. For decency’s sake he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and pushed the curtain open, the ring of metal on wood making George twitch. 

“Major, come look at this,” he called and Benjamin moved to his side, feet bare on the carpets of the tent. “These troops, do you think they are the same ones from Culper’s last report?” he said. Ben tried to fight down the confusion of all of this, his dress mingling with the formality and leaned over Washington’s shoulder. 

“The numbers look right, sir. If it’s them then we know they’re split up and come in from either side of the woods,” he said in an even professional voice and Washington hummed. 

“We shall see. We must find out if the ring is still functioning,” Washington murmured and set down the map on the table, sitting back slightly. He looked at Benjamin and his gaze softened. “Good morning, darling,” he said softly and gently pulled Benjamin close, one hand on his hip. Benjamin relaxed at last, slipping into his lap and gently wrapped his arms around Washington’s neck.

“Hello,” he whispered softly. He rubbed his nose slowly along the line of George’s nose, and the general chuckled.

“I’m sorry to abandon you this morning but people would notice if the general went missing. It may take a little longer for them to notice your absence.” His tone was teasing but the words were true. 

“It’s not as though I’m doing anything really,” Benjamin chuckled. “Just-just waiting for the fall-for word from Culper, junior, anyone.” he sighed and rested his head on George’s shoulder. George stroked his back gently, the fabric of the blanket muffling the feeling slightly. “Sir?”

“Major?” George aid critically and Benjamin chuckled and blushed. 

“George, then.” The man smiled. “Why me? If I may, why me? And don’t just say it has something to do with love, why ME?” Georges face went very soft and he turned Ben to kiss him gently. 

“Because you, dear one, are uniquely suited to overcome a barrier I have been struggling with since I joined this war.” Benjamin blinked in confusion. “You have never had trouble with speaking your mind and treating me as an equal, damning me when you saw fit. I cannot be with someone who will only ever see me is ‘his excellency’. As I needed you with my melancholia, I need you with my love. And yes, Ben. It IS because I love you.” he kissed the boy then, as Benjamin blushed. 

“Fair enough,” he mumbled when the broke apart and George carded a hand through his hair gently. “I should find clothes and get dressed. Caleb will have realized I’m missing and, knowing him, he’ll have half the camp looking for me before noon unless I show up with a good excuse.” George laughed and kissed his cheek. 

“Well then you best be going. Wouldn’t want to keep Caleb waiting, now would we?” Benjamin smiled, still blushing and gathered up his stained shirt-he’d ask Anna to wash it-his discarded clothes and boots, dressing quickly.. He paused and allowed George to fix his hair, hands gentle as he braided back and tied his brown locks. A soft kiss was placed at the nape of his neck and Benjamin shivered. He adjusted his sword belt made sure no one could see the stains on his shirt and saluted to the General who nodded and looked back at the maps on his table. 

“Oh and Major,” he called as Benjamin started to leave. “Do try and find out if we’ll be seeing the Culper Ring anymore,” he urged and Benjamin nodded. 

“Yes, sir.” He quit the tent and made for his own. He changed into fresh clothes, fingers lingering on a small spot on jaw where a faint bruise had formed. George’s lips had been there often last night. He shivered. He gathered up his clothes and went to see Anna who agreed to wash his clothes with a critical look that said exactly how she felt about being demoted to a laundry girl from The Long Island Signal. 

“BEN!” roared a voice and he jumped, spinning. Caleb Brewster charged towards him, smiling wide. “BEN! Looky here!” He waved a paper and Benjamin grabbed it, looking at it. Anna peered over his shoulder, as did Caleb, panting and grinned. There, in the top right corner, was an advertisement. Benjamin felt a wide smile break over his face. 

“We’re back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks so much for reading i know this isn't very SMut heavy, buttttttt
> 
> AND ALSO!!! TURN is confirmed for the fourth season! WOOHOO! aww yiss. I was actually wondeirng how to wrap this up when I heard so, that's a good thing. Anywhoo. 
> 
> This is not the last you'll hear form THIS verse, I have a few more short stories I want to tell in this verse so look for more stuff, and check out my Hamilton musical fanfics if you're into that shit. 
> 
> Thanks for reading y'all!


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